Secret of the Hopeful Holiday - A Whispering Pines Short Mystery (EBOOK)

Chapter 1
The GPS indicated I should take a left when I got to the road that ran along the Mississippi River. I was about to do that but took a minute to take in the view first. The wide expanse of slow-moving deep-blue water was breathtaking. The bluffs covered with naked trees on the far side, not so much.
“It must be beautiful here spring through fall,” I said with a wistful sigh. “When all those trees have leaves . . . And just imagine the fall colors.”
“You’ve become spoiled by the constant green from the pine trees surrounding our village,” responded my friend, Morgan Barlow. “There’s beauty in every season, Jayne. Appreciate what is.”
Wise words from a woman who sometimes sounded like the human version of a fortune cookie.
Our lodging for the weekend was to be a two-bedroom suite at The Barge on Inn, which should be two blocks down after I turned.
“There it is.” Morgan pointed at the three-story building right across from the river. “Oh, how charming.”
Elaborate cream-colored cornices running along the roofline and medium-blue louvered shutters on either side of each window had turned a plain rectangular red-brick building into a very inviting and, indeed, charming place. The abundance of Yuletide decorations amplified the charm factor. It looked like my goal for this four-day girlfriends’ weekend just might happen. In no particular order, I wanted to rest, relax, get some Christmas shopping done, and spend uninterrupted time with my best friend.
My breath caught the moment we entered the inn’s lobby. It was Christmas to excess in a good way. Wreaths with candlesticks and big red bows hung in every window. Trees set up all around were covered in twinkling lights and ornaments in the traditional colors of red, green, silver, and gold. Santa Claus watched from pictures hanging in random spots and from embroidered pillows perched on wingback chairs next to an inviting fireplace. Pine garland had been draped across the mantel and up the staircase banister.
It all made me think back to when I was a kid and would spring excitedly out of bed on Christmas mornings. I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt that way about Christmas. When I was eight or ten? I loved giving gifts and had enjoyed learning about the Wiccan Yule traditions the people of Whispering Pines followed, but the holidays felt routine to me. Had for years. Like something I was supposed to do rather than a thing I eagerly awaited. Would I ever feel the magic of the season again, or was that just for little kids?
“You’re a bit early,” the innkeeper, Geoffrey, told us from the other side of the reservation desk. Check-in was at three, and it was almost two thirty. “Your room is ready, though, so I’m happy to check you in.”
“And that is a two-room suite, right?” I verified. Bedrooms to ourselves, where we didn’t have to worry about snoring and keeping each other awake, would go a long way toward me unwinding.
“Yes, Ms. O’Shea, we have you in the suite on the top floor for three nights. And as requested, Ms. Barlow, we’ve put a mini freezer in one of the bedrooms.”
“Bless you.” Morgan placed her palms together in thanks.
“Our goal,” Geoffrey assured, “is to provide perfect comfort, no matter what that means.”
One thing Morgan was excited about for our weekend was getting a short break from her almost seven-month-old twins. She was breastfeeding them, though, and didn’t want to pump and dump if she didn’t have to. Bags of frozen milk would easily survive the three-hour return trip home in a cooler.
While completing the check-in process, Geoffrey explained that the inn was established in the mid-1800s and its quirky name was inspired by the barges that passed by on the river. “The massive flat-bottomed boats are pushed by little tugboats and transport goods like grain, coal, or building supplies. They float past almost daily from late spring through mid-November and always make me smile.” He handed us our keys. “Welcome to The Barge on Inn and Blackwood Grove. I sincerely hope you enjoy your stay.”